Stuck
by Geeklove4eva
Summary: WiP:After a fight with Grissom, Sara tries something stupid, and ends up in the hospital. Because of this, Grissom realizes that he's got to let go of his fears, and let Sara in before it's too late.
1. Fight

Author's note: Hey again guys! Gabby C. here, starting her new WiP, "Stuck", which is the prequel to my last WiP, "Nightmare." Yay! Now, I'm not sure quite where this is going yet, well, I have some idea of what I want to do, but I'm counting on you guys to tell me when this is really stupid, or if you like what I'm doing. I'm open to all suggestions and ideas! So, yay, I hope you enjoy this story, I hope it doesn't disappoint!  
  
Spoilers: None  
  
Disclaimer: They're not mine, but if they were, I'd sure know how to use them!  
  
…………  
  
"Grissom, I want this case!"   
  
Sara's voice bounced off the walls of the dim office as she stormed in after the night shift supervisor.  
  
Grissom sat down in his chair and let out an exasperated sigh as he sat back. He closed his eyes and removed his glasses, tossing them on his desk before rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration. It was a never-ending battle with her anymore… and it was giving him another migraine.  
  
"Sara, we've been over this…"  
  
"No, Grissom," Sara interrupted, "I want this case. You know I'll put 110 percent into it…"  
  
It was Grissom's turn to interject, "That's just it, Sara, I'm afraid you'll put too much into it. You feel so much for this victim, but sometimes you feel too much. They cannot be special, no matter how much you want to make them that!"  
  
Grissom stood up from his chair, and leaned over his desk as he spoke, planting his hands firmly on his desk as he met Sara's fiery stare. Their eyes locked and for a few tense seconds the office was completely silent. Sara broke that.  
  
"Let me have this," she said slowly between clenched teeth.  
  
"No. This girl was raped. The last thing she needs is an investigator getting over-emotional and compromising evidence that otherwise would have put her rapist away."  
  
Sara's jaw dropped and she shook her head, "I don't believe you! You know that I'm a damn good investigator. Have I ever screwed up a case like this before?"  
  
Grissom sighed again and fell back into his chair. He threw a hand into the air and then let if fall onto the desk with a loud thump.  
  
"You know, if this were anyone else asking, you would say yes in a heartbeat."  
  
Grissom looked up at her, his frustration and anger getting the best of him, "If it were anyone else I wouldn't have to worry about them going home and losing it if, for some reason, the case wasn't solved and the bad guy got away!"  
  
Grissom's heart was pounding and the only thing that could be heard in the room was his heavy breathing. He started up at Sara, who was standing still, lips pressed together, arms hanging at her side in defeat. A tear rolled down her cheek, and her head fell to her chest.  
  
Grissom opened his mouth, but closed it quickly and searched for the right words. He couldn't find them.  
  
"Sara… Nick's waiting for you at your d.b.," he said quietly.  
  
Sara's head shot up and her eyes tightened in hurt as she stared at him. Grissom looked down at the paperwork on his desk, and pretended to take interest in the dull work. Sara swallowed and slowly backed out of his office, leaving Grissom alone with his thoughts.  
  
……….  
  
Sara walked slowly under the crime scene tape and walked over to where Nick was kneeling down. She set her kit down besides her as she kneeled down next to him.  
  
"What do you have there?" she asked as she looked over his shoulder at the hair that he held precariously between the teeth of his tweezers.  
  
Nick looked over his shoulder at her briefly, and then held it up for her to see.  
  
"A hair, possible transfer from perp to vic," he stared at it a second longer, then grabbed an envelope out of his kit and slipped the hair into it. He turned to Sara and grinned.  
  
"Took you awhile to meet me here. What happened?"  
  
Sara grimaced and shook her head, "I had to talk to Grissom about something, but… what all have you done while I was gone?"  
  
"Went through this room, and over most of the rest of the house. Disturbance seems isolated to this room. The killer might have known the vic, but… we'll just have to see what the evidence tells us."  
  
Sara nodded slowly, then asked quietly, "So, do you think you'll need me here? I have some stuff I need to take care of."  
  
Nick tilted his head, then smiled, "Nah, I think I can handle it from here."  
  
Sara nodded her thanks and turned to leave, but stopped and turned around when she heard Nick say her name.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Is everything alright?"  
  
Sara looked down at the ground, then back up at Nick. She gave him a small smile before answering.  
  
"It will be."  
  
She threw her hand up in a half wave, then turned around and walked out, grabbing her kit on the way.  
  
Nick stared after her as her form slowly disappeared from sight before turning back to the body in front of him. To him, nothing seemed wrong, but he didn't know that this was just the calm before the storm.  
  
TBC 


	2. Drive

Author's note: Hola everyone! Wow, this story has definitely taken a different turn then I originally hoped it would. I like this new direction anyway! Thanks for all the great reviews, you guys all rock! Oh and the song briefly mentioned is "Insensible" my Mandalay. Great song, if you ever get the chance to hear it!  
  
Dedication: My friends said they want me to dedicate my chapters to random people in our little group, so I said ok. This chapter is dedicated to my best bud Amy G. who, sadly, left for vacation this week and said she wouldn't bring me back a souvenir. :( I am sad, but nice enough to dedicate this one to her! Love ya Amo!!  
  
.............  
  
Sara was tired. Tired of being degraded, tired of being knocked down a peg every time she talked to him, and the lack of sleep didn't help much either. She was living in a world where everyday a little more life was drained from her already worn body, and she didn't know how much more she could take.  
  
"If it were anyone else I wouldn't have to worry about them going home and losing it…"  
  
That line had really stuck in her mind. Sara knew that when she worked rape cases she could get emotional… but was it really that bad? There had been a few times when Sara had briefly considered ending it all, letting go of all the pain in one quick flick of the wrist, letting the cold metal of a razor end her pain. In the end, though, logic saved her, and she always knew that something like that would never happen. She could never take her own life; she'd never know what she would miss if she did.   
  
Instead, she drove down the long and lonely stretch of highway just north of Las Vegas. It was up here that the area opened up and allowed you to see the vast beauty that was rarely seen outside the bright lights and hustle of the city. It was calming, peaceful. Sara traveled this road when her mind just needed to be cleared. Tonight was one of those times.  
  
Sara held back her tears as she let her mind wander to a time when she and Grissom were able to work out their problems like civilized people, instead of ripping each others heads off like they did nowadays. There had been a time when he had trusted her judgment, hell, even cared about her. There was even a time when they had been friends but… Sara sighed. She was starting to wonder if things would ever be like that again.   
  
She stifled a yawn as she shifted her eyes down to look at the speedometer. The needle hovered over 85. Sara smiled as her eyes focused on the road again. But it was hard to focus. The gentle hum of the tires against the smooth, rarely traveled road echoed in her ears and the light from the moon shone down onto the desert ground, covering it in a soft blanket of misty light. The cool air that blew in from her open window whispered against her face and she reveled in its feel.   
  
'I should pull over,' Sara thought.  
  
Up ahead, Sara saw the bright sign that advertised at hotel about thirty minutes away. She nodded to herself, and decided that she could make it there. She could stay awake, right?  
  
She turned on the radio, and flipped through a couple of stations before settling on one with a slow song.   
  
'Its better then that heavy metal crap the rest of the stations are playing,' she thought.  
  
She listened to the song as it played quietly through the car. She had heard this song before, but it had been a while ago, and she knew that she was catching it in the middle of the lyrics, but she listened anyway. She let the words echo through her head, listening carefully to what they said.  
  
"I wouldn't be here  
  
If you could have said no  
  
I wouldn't have come here  
  
If ever I had known"  
  
If she had known that coming to Vegas would have ended up like this, she wouldn't have come at all. If only she could have seen this coming. If Grissom just could have left it up to his own team or someone in dayshift… she would still be in 'Frisco. She might even have a life. She chuckled at the last thought, and then listened to the song again.  
  
"It's like I hardly see the sky some days  
  
It's like you hardly said a word  
  
It's like I hardly see the sky some days  
  
And I'd do better if I turned my head  
  
Knowing you did"  
  
Sara sighed. She should just walk away from him. He had given up on her, so why shouldn't she do the same to him? But sometimes she could let how she still felt for him get in the way of her better judgment, and she allowed herself to stay. Maybe not the smartest thing, but someday she would know better.  
  
The song's melody continued to play, and as it did, Sara could feel her eyes getting heavier. Her head fell to her chest and her eyes closed.  
  
"Only a few seconds…," she mumbled.  
  
But what happened next only took a few seconds. Her eyes snapped open when she heard the semi's horn blaring, cutting through the foggy haze of her brain as the truck careened towards her.  
  
"Oh my god!" Sara screamed as she swerved back onto her side of the road.   
  
But she had spun the wheel too far. The car went spinning off the road, and her tire caught the dirt on the side of the road, flipping the car in midair over the small ditch and into the desert beyond it. The car smashed to the ground, rolling a few more times before coming to a stop on its side. Everything was still, except for the dust and smoke catching up with the totaled vehicle.   
  
Sara tried to open her battered eyes, but she had no strength left in her shattered body. She tried to move her arm, but she could only moan in agony as pain shot through her arm, followed by the trickle of blood. She wanted to open her eyes, she need to see what was hurt, but before long her whole body was on fire with excoriating pain and she let the darkness behind her eyes take her into unconsciousness.   
  
Her body went limp as the driver of the semi ran up to her car.  
  
"Oh god! I'm getting help!" he yelled as pulled out his cell phone and quickly punched in 9-1-1.  
  
"Help will be here soon!" he said as he waited for dispatch to answer, but he wasn't sure it would be soon enough as he looked down at the mess that used to be a car, and the female still trapped inside.  
  
TBC 


	3. Discovery

Author's note: Hey guys, sorry about the wait. There has been a lot of stuff going on in my life, plus I'm trying to start a new fic, plus band camp, and school starts in two weeks (it's my Senior year!!), so, I'm trying to get ready for that! So, yeah, I've barely had anytime for this, but here it is!! Yay! Again, thank you for all the encouraging reviews, you guys are SO great!  
  
Dedication: Ok, this chapter is dedicated to my friend Michael. I know we're having a tough time right now, but we'll get through it!  
  
..........  
  
Grissom sat at his desk, his right hand massaging his temple as he fought back a migraine. His eyes were closed and he leaned back in his chair as Tchaikovsky's "Barcarolle" floated through the musty office air.  
  
Catherine walked by the open door, letting her eyes peek in at the supervisor sitting at his desk. Briefly, she let her attention turn back to the hallway in front of her, before her mind registered what she had seen. She backed up and stood in the doorway, and after a few seconds she tapped lightly on the doorframe.  
  
"Hey, Grissom, you ok?"  
  
Grissom's eyes snapped open and he quickly reached back to turn off the music. He sat forward, leaning on his desk, and ran a hand over his beard.  
  
"Catherine... ummm, yeah, I'm fine. I was just... I thought my door was closed."  
  
Catherine smirked and shook her head, "Nope, it was wide open."  
  
Grissom's eyebrows furrowed in thought before he tilted his head and brought his shoulder up in a half shrug. He looked back up at Catherine.  
  
"What was it you wanted again?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.  
  
Catherine huffed, "You looked... distressed when I walked by. I was just checking up on you."  
  
"I'm fine," he nodded, and squeezed his eyes shut.  
  
"Yeah, and pigs fly," she mumbled.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Something's bothering you. It looked like you were fighting off a migraine, you had Bach or Chopin or..."  
  
"It was Tchaikovsky," Grissom cut in matter-of-factly.  
  
Catherine closed her eyes and shook her head as she continued, "Whatever. The point is, something's wrong, and as a friend, I'm trying to help. Now, are you going to tell me, or do I have to hunt Sara down and find out from her?"  
  
"What makes you think Sara knows?" he asked calmly.  
  
Catherine flopped down in the chair across from Grissom, "Oh, come on Griss, it wouldn't surprise me if the whole lab heard you arguing with her earlier. What's going on between you two?" she paused and added before he could answer, "And don't tell me it's nothing."  
  
Grissom's open mouth quickly shut and he rubbed at the bridge of his nose in frustration. He sighed.  
  
"Honestly? I don't know."  
  
Catherine grinned. Now she was getting somewhere.  
  
"Have you tried talking to her?"  
  
Grissom stared at Catherine in disbelief, "Have I tried talking to her? It's impossible to talk to her without one of us blowing up. I don't know what to..."  
  
The shrill ringing of the phone on his desk interrupted Grissom in mid-sentence. He looked at Catherine, and then answered it.  
  
"Grissom."  
  
"Yeah, Gil, it's Jim. Look, I hate to do this to you an hour before shift ends, but there's been an accident on highway 85. We need a CSI."  
  
Grissom's eyebrows creased, "Accident? How bad?"  
  
Brass' usually cool voice hitched with a hint of sadness as he answered.  
  
"Bad enough to need a CSI."  
  
Grissom closed his eyes and nodded, "Ok, I'm on my way."  
  
He hung up the phone and stood up, searching his desk for his keys.  
  
"Everything ok?" asked Catherine.  
  
"There was an accident on 85. Brass needs a CSI. I have to go," he found his keys and stuffed them in his pocket. He looked at Catherine and added; "You're good on your case, right?"  
  
Catherine nodded, "Yeah, evidence is being processed in the lab. Just waiting for Greg to get me the results."  
  
Grissom nodded, "Good. I'll be in touch."  
  
With that, he walked out the door and headed to the highway.  
  
..........  
  
In all his years as a crime scene investigator, Grissom still could never suppress the chill that ran down his spine every time he entered a potential crime scene or the scene of some horrific accident.  
  
Grissom let his eyes scan the horizon, finding comfort in the first hints of the rising Nevada sun. It helped him gain his composure before he turned his attention to the scene in front of him.  
  
The blue and red lights from the cruisers that sat scattered along the highway mixed with the dim shadows of early morning. Rescuers worked around the wreck, running back and forth between it and the few ambulances on the road. They quickly tried to free the person trapped inside the crumpled piece of tin that had once been a car.  
  
Grissom shook his head sadly as he turned from the scene and searched for Brass. He spotted him talking to a young uniformed officer.  
  
"Jim," he called, setting down his kit.  
  
Brass looked at Grissom and smiled grimly before finishing up with the young man and sending him on his way.  
  
"I'm glad you're here," Brass paused, looking over at the totaled vehicle, "It may only be one car, but it's bad."  
  
Grissom followed Brass's stare, "Victims?"  
  
"One. They're still trapped. Rescuers are trying to get them out, but... it's looking bad."  
  
Grissom's head shot towards Brass, then back to the car, "They're still alive?"  
  
"As of about three minutes ago, yes. They mumbled something as we tried to cut away some of the door, then they passed out again."  
  
"Oh," said Grissom, picking up his kit from the pavement, "I'm going to get started on the tread marks over here. Tell me when the car is ready."  
  
"Gotcha," said Brass.  
  
Grissom stepped away and headed over to the dark marks that stained the sun worn pavement. He brought the camera that hung around his neck up to his face, then focused the lens on the marks and snapped a picture. He let the camera settle, then snapped another from the same angle.  
  
His eyes followed the marks up the road as they curved off and into the dirt. He played the scene out in his head.  
  
The cars driving down the road. Something distracts the driver, something on the road, on the radio, or maybe they were just getting tired. It distracts them enough to where they slowly drift into the other lane. The driver of the semi sees the car, honks his horn, catching the other drivers attention. The car swerves just in time to miss the semi, but goes too far, catching dirt, causing them to fly off the road...  
  
Grissom's eyes rested on the car. He started the scenario again, but was interrupted by the sound of voices yelling.  
  
"Quick, we need a stretcher!"  
  
"Got it! Watch out!"  
  
Grissom jogged over to Brass and watched the rescuers scramble to the car.  
  
"They get them out?" Grissom asked.  
  
"I think so," replied Brass breathlessly.  
  
They stood silently as the rescuers gently pulled the battered body of the victim out of the smoking wreckage. Carefully, they placed her body on the stretcher and started moving it towards an ambulance. Grissom's eyes followed it, his heart sinking as he examined the deep gashes embedded along the woman's arms, face and legs.  
  
"My God, Jim, look at her wounds," he said, turning to Brass.  
  
But he didn't stay looking at Brass for long. Just as quickly, he turned his head back to the stretcher, his eyes wide. For a moment, time stopped.  
  
"Gil?"  
  
Brass's voice fell on deaf ears. Grissom could barely hear his own words as they came out of his mouth when he finally spoke.  
"Oh my God... Jim, it's Sara!"  
  
His feet hit the dirt as he ran to the stretcher. His heart was pounding, his breath coming in short gasps as he finally caught up with the EMT's. He grasped Sara's bruised hand as he stared down at her broken body.  
  
"Sir, you're gonna have to back up."  
  
Grissom looked at the EMT as if he had spoken a different language, "This is my CSI. This is Sara Sidle!" he looked back at Sara, "Sara, can you hear me?"  
  
Grissom gasped as Sara's hand twitched in his, and her lips quivered as she struggled to speak.  
  
"Griss?" she mumbled.  
  
"Yeah, it's me. I'm here."  
  
Her hand went limp again as the stretcher was lifted into the ambulance. The EMT climbed in after it.  
  
"Let's go!" he yelled to the driver.  
  
The doors closed. Grissom's hands flew to the door as the ambulance started to pull away.  
  
"Gil, no! She'll be ok, she's in good hands!" yelled Brass as he pulled Grissom back.  
  
Grissom pulled away angrily. Frantically, he searched his pockets for his keys.  
  
"I... I have to go. I have to get to the hospital. Damn it! Where are my keys?"  
  
Brass shook his head, "Oh no. I'm driving."  
  
Grissom stilled, then nodded and headed for Brass's car.  
  
Brass sighed and followed him. He just knew in his gut this was going to be hard news to break to everyone else. It would be even harder if Sara didn't make it. 


	4. Finding out in the worst way

Author's note: Sorry for the delay, guys, but, wow, have things been hectic!! But schools back and all I do during classes is write! So, here is the next chapter of "Stuck!"  
Yay!!  
  
Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to the other co-section leader of the trumpet squad, Becca Neeland, who helps with keeping the other trumpets in line, and keeping morale up!  
  
……….  
  
Greg looked up from the latest issue of "Surf and Sand Monthly" to look at the clock that hung on the wall. He frowned, and double-checked it against his own watch. They were the same.  
  
Greg sighed as he swiveled around in his chair, looking out into the hallway. His eyes scanned the crowd for Sara. He squinted his eyes in concentration, but no one even came close to resembling her. He did see another familiar face, though. He jumped out of his seat when he saw Warrick pass by.  
  
Running to the doorway, his eyes followed his lanky form though the crowd. Greg poked his head around the corner and leaned on it to catch his breath. As he did, he called for Warrick.  
  
Warrick stopped and turned around, giving Greg a small lop-sided grin as he sauntered up to the lab rat.  
  
"What's up, Greg?"  
  
"Have you seen Sara?"  
  
Warrick shook his head, "No, Nick was working a case with her tonight."  
  
"Nick? He brought some evidence into trace earlier, but I didn't see her with him. Warrick, she ALWAYS comes in with her evidence!" said Greg.  
  
"Man, you're losing it," said Warrick, "Sara doesn't always come in with her evidence, and for all you know, she's down with Doc Robbins and her D.B."  
  
Greg shook his head, "Nope. I've already checked. I've also checked all the other labs; A.V., ballistics… no one has seen her. Heck, I've even tried Grissom's office!"  
  
Warrick chuckled at Greg. He knew that he had a crush on Sara, but he had no idea as to what extent. Warrick patted him on the shoulder and turned around to leave, but bumped into Nick instead.  
  
"Whoa, valuable stuff, coming through," Nick said.  
"Man, your evidence is fine."  
  
"Who said I was talking about the evidence?" Nick grinned, pretending to wipe dirt off his shoulder.  
  
Warrick huffed and shook his head.  
  
"Good luck with your missing person, Greg," he said as he walked out.  
  
"Missing person?" Nick asked as he set down his evidence in front of Greg.  
  
"Yeah, Sara. You're working with her tonight, do you know where she is?"  
  
Nick leaned back against the table as Greg opened up the bindle and slid the hair out onto a microscope slide, "Yeah, she has some stuff to do, so she left me at the scene. Why?"  
  
"No reason," said Greg, letting out a sigh of relief.  
  
Silently, the two worked on the hair, Nick quietly watching Greg as he carefully worked to extract DNA from the skin tag at the end of the hair. The silence, though, was soon interrupted.  
  
"Guys, you gotta come see this," said Warrick as he ran up to the lab door.  
  
Nick and Greg looked at each other, then back at the door, but Warrick was already weaving his way down the hallway to the break room. Nick and Greg quickly followed.  
  
The break room was empty except for Warrick and Catherine, who sat close to the TV. Nick stood next to Warrick, his eyes glued to the screen.  
  
"What's going on?" Nick asked.  
  
"We were watching the news and they broke in. They said that a CSI had been in an accident," said Warrick.  
  
"Shhhh, it's coming back on," said Greg.  
  
"Breaking news tonight. An accident on Highway 85 has left one person in critical condition tonight at a local hospital. The victim is Las Vegas CSI Sara Sidle, who was on duty at the time of the accident…"  
  
A picture flashed up on the screen of a serious Sara, her lips barely turned up in a smile. It was her employee picture.  
  
Catherine reached over and turned off the TV before wiping the tears off her face. Nick shook his head as he fell into the nearest chair. "No. It's not her. They just think it's her. Mistaken identity, that's all."  
  
"Nick…" whispered Catherine.  
  
"NO! It's not here, damn it!" Nick slammed his fists on the table. Greg flinched, and sat down. Catherine bit her lip and turned her head.  
  
"It can't be her," said Greg quietly, "We haven't heard anything from Grissom, and he'd be the first to know, right?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah he would be," said Warrick, trying to sound hopeful.  
  
As if on cue a cell phone went off. Everyone quickly checked their phones, but only Catherine flipped hers open.  
  
"Willows."  
  
On the other end Catherine could her someone sniffle, then clear their throat. She heard her name being said by a tired, scratchy voice of someone who had been crying. Her heart sank when she realized who it was.  
  
"Grissom?"  
  
"Catherine… you all should come to the hospital. There's… there's been an accident. Sara…" he paused and took a quivery breath, "They don't think she's going to make it."  
  
Catherine nodded slowly, "Ok, we'll be there a.s.a.p."  
  
She hung up her phone and slid it back into her pocket. She lowered her head into her hands.  
  
"Oh God," whispered Warrick.  
  
"We need to get to the hospital," said Catherine as she stood up.  
  
The CSI's nodded, and stood up to follow her, quickly making their way to their vehicles.  
  
After all, who knew how much time Sara had left. 


	5. Hospital

Author's note: Lol, sorry again guys… school, marching band and more school have kept me from posting this. It's been done for awhile now, but I haven't been on my computer for weeks now. So, FINALLY, here it is! I hope you enjoy!!  
  
Dedication: This one goes too my friends Margaret and Jenny, who really picked me up when I was down! I love you guys!!  
  
……….  
  
Phones rang. The click of feet on linoleum echoed against sterile white walls. Nurses in pastel uniforms poked their heads into room after room, before jotting a few notes onto their clipboard and moving on.  
  
But Gil Grissom didn't notice any of it. His attention was focused on the double doors at the end of the hallway that led to the operating room. His body went numb at the thought of a scalpel cutting through Sara's skin. His hands were shaking and sweat collected in beads at his hair line. He didn't care.  
  
Brass glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye, tightening his grip on the coffee cup he held. Grissom's crumbling demeanor worried him. Not that Brass himself wasn't already worried about Sara, but Grissom had almost always remained calm in even the most trying situations. But the fear in his eyes was enough to make even the thick-skinned captain cringe. Things were bad enough to worry and that… well, that made him worry.  
  
Brass stood up and stretched his legs. He looked down at the empty coffee cup, and then at Grissom.  
  
"Gil," he said in almost a whisper, "I'm going to get some coffee, you want some?"  
  
Grissom stayed motionless, his eyes still focused on the O.R. doors. Brass set a hand on Grissom's shoulder, but pulled back when Grissom flinched under his touch. Grissom looked up at him, his eyes puffy and red, watery from tears that had yet to fall.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Come with me to get some coffee. You need to get out of that chair," said Brass.  
  
Grissom shook his head, "No, I'm going to stay here. What if the doctor came? I… I'm going to stay."  
  
Brass bit his lip, then nodded slowly as he started down the hall. After a few steps, he paused and turned around.  
  
"Gil, she's gonna be alright, you know. And don't beat yourself up… this isn't your fault."  
  
Grissom looked up at Brass again, "Then whose fault is it?"  
  
He held Brass's stare a few seconds longer, then turned back to the doors at the opposite end of the hallway. Brass stood still for a moment, thinking about what Grissom had said before starting, again, towards the cafeteria.  
  
He walked to the elevator slowly, hoping that the more time it took him to get there, the more all this would seem like a dream. He shuffled his feet and twisted the cup in his hands.  
  
Everything was happening so fast. What should have been a routine call to a traffic accident had very quickly become a terrible nightmare. A dear friend was now lying on an O.R. table just barely clinging to life, while another sat just down the hall in as much of a catatonic state.  
  
Brass stopped at the elevator and rubbed his tired eyes. He looked back in the direction of O.R., wondering if maybe he shouldn't go back. He took a step in that direction, but stopped when he heard the elevator ding, and the doors slide open.  
  
"Brass?"  
  
He met Catherine's red eyes. She smiled slightly as she stepped out of the elevator, Warrick, Nick and Greg following closely behind her. They walked into the middle of the hallway and stared at Brass, waiting for him to start. He couldn't seem to find the words.  
  
"Brass, are you going to tell us what happened?" asked Nick impatiently.  
  
"There was an accident… for some reason Sara drifted into the oncoming lane and was almost his by a truck before swerving into her lane. She overcorrected and…," Brass trailed off, allowing the others to fill in the blanks.  
  
"How is she?" asked Greg.  
  
"She's in O.R. She's holding on."  
  
"That girl was always a fighter," said Warrick.  
  
"Still is," said Greg.  
  
The group was silent as they stared at the young lab rat. Each contemplated Greg's last comment. If they knew Sara, they also knew she wouldn't give up.  
  
"Hey Brass… where's Grissom?" asked Warrick, looking around.  
  
"Oh, he's down by O.R. He wouldn't budge," said Brass.  
  
Warrick nodded and the group headed down the hall. They were silent as they walked, each one imagining what they would see when they reached Grissom. Nothing, though, could prepare them for what they saw.  
  
His head rested in his hands, and he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. He seemed to be in silent prayer, all his focus on the words he whispered in his own head. His skin was pale, and sweat glistened in what little of his hairline you could see. Even from where they stood, the team could see Grissom shaking. It was like nothing they had ever seen.  
  
"Gil?" whispered Catherine as she approached him.  
  
He looked up. His face was wet, a sign he had been crying. He wiped at his tears, and stood up.  
  
"Hey, guys. I'm… I'm really glad you're here," he said.  
  
Catherine rested her hand on his shoulder. Grissom looked down at his feet, then back up at her. He gave her a small smile before casting a quick glance at the O.R. doors.  
  
"Grissom, I'm so sorry," Nick said, stepping forward.  
  
Grissom's eyebrow's furrowed, "Why?"  
  
"I let her go, Griss," he whispered.  
  
"What?" asked Grissom, not quite catching on.  
  
"She left the scene early. I let her go. Something was bugging her, I could tell, but I didn't stop her. If I just woulda kept her there… even for a little longer…," Nick trailed off, wiping at the tears that were falling down his cheeks.  
  
"She wasn't heading out to your scene?" asked Brass.  
  
"No… she said that everything would be ok and then she was gone."  
  
"There was something wrong with her… and you let her leave?" Grissom was seething, "Nick, for all we know, she did this on purpose!"  
  
Grissom's face turned red with anger. He took a step towards Nick, but Warrick stepped forward and held him back.  
  
"Hey, Griss, calm down," he said quietly.  
  
"Calm down? Calm down!? How can I calm down when Sara is on the operating table barley clinging to life? She wouldn't be in this situation if…," but Grissom stopped when he heard his name.  
  
"Gil Grissom?"  
  
Grissom turned around and met the eyes of the older gentleman. He wore a scrubs and an apron, both dotted with patches of blood. He held out his hand and Grissom took it in a quick greeting.  
  
"I'm Dr. Peters, I performed the operation on Ms. Sidle."  
  
Grissom's eyes got wide, "How is she?"  
  
The dr. bit his lip and nodded his head, "I had anticipated that'd be your first question. Mr. Grissom… everyone… why don't you sit down. I have a lot to explain."  
  
TBC… 


	6. First Visit

Author's note: Hey everyone, sorry for the delay! I've had these next few chapters written for awhile now, but I haven't had time to sit down and type them out and post. Just a quick note, I have NO idea how the whole ICU/hospital situation works, so a lot of this first chapter is kinda just whatever came out of my head. That, and they were written on a noisy bus at midnight on the way home from a marching band competition. So, please enjoy, despite the lack of accuracy to the whole hospital thing…  
  
Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to my friend Nicole, who moved to Chicago Saturday! I miss you already, Cye!!  
  
………  
  
The CSI's sat down in front of Dr. Peters. They looked up at him expectantly with teary eyes. They were silent, but their minds were racing with a thousand different possibilities.  
  
Brain damage.  
  
Paralysis.  
  
Amnesia.  
  
Dead.  
  
No one wanted to say anything. Even Dr. Peters seemed to be holding back as he shifted nervously in front of the group. He rubbed his hands together as he cleared his throat, then put them into his pockets as he started.  
  
"Mr. Grissom, I have good news and bad news. The good news is, Ms. Sidle made it through the operation," Dr. Peters paused as the group let out a sigh of relieve, "She's pretty banged up though," he continued, "Three fractured ribs, a broken arm, fractured right leg, broken left leg, multiple contusions and lacerations over her body, and a concussion. Not to mention, she had massive internal bleeding in her abdominal cavity, but we've gotten that squared away."  
  
Again, he paused, but this time, he looked down at the floor. He licked his lips and looked back at the group of friends sitting in front of him.  
  
"The bad news is… she's fallen into a coma. There is no telling when she could come out of it. It could be days, weeks… maybe even longer. And until she comes out of it, there is no telling to what extent the damage is to her brain. For all we know, she's perfectly fine, and lets pray that's the case. We'll just have to wait and see."  
  
The CSI's looked stunned. They sat quietly, staring at one another, not wanting to believe what they had just heard. Grissom shook his head as his eyes wandered to the floor in front of Dr. Peters' feet. He rubbed his hands over his face, and looked back up at the doctor.  
  
"Can we see her?" asked Grissom faintly.  
  
"She's in ICU right now, but I'm sure it'd be alright for one person to see her. I can only allow for a few minutes right now, though. I assume you'd be going in, Mr. Grissom?"  
  
Grissom looked at his team. Each one of them nodded in approval.  
  
"Yeah," Grissom replied.  
  
"Follow me then," said Dr. Peters as he turned and led the way.  
  
It only took a few minutes to reach ICU. Dr. Peters pointed down the hall as they stopped near the nurses' station.  
  
"Second to last door on the right. I'm afraid you only have a few minutes, though. A nurse should be in shortly to check on Ms. Sidle."  
  
"Thank you," whispered Grissom as he started down the hall.  
  
His footsteps echoed against the walls as he made his way to Sara's door. It seemed to take an eternity to reach it, but in just a few short steps, Grissom found himself standing in front of the room. He drew in a deep breath and laid a shaky hand on the cool door knob. He twisted it, and the door opened, allowing him to step inside.  
  
The room was silent, except for the beeping of the heart monitor and the mechanical breathing of the respirator. The room was cold. The only window in the room was pushed slightly open, letting an unusually cool breeze in from the Vegas night. The dim light that hung over the bed illuminated the sterile white walls in the room.  
  
Grissom's eyes, though, were immediately drawn to the still form lying in the bed in front of him. He tensed up, keeping himself from running to the bed. Instead, he slowly walked to the bedside.  
  
He flexed his hands at his sides, unsure of what to do once he reached Sara's bed. He stared with furrowed eyebrows at the bandaged-covered women unconscious in the bed. Her left arm was in a dull white cast, her legs were the same. Stitches littered her hairline, and her cheeks were painted in deep blue and purple bruises. Grissom stared at the tube that ran into Sara's mouth. He shook his head as he pulled up a seat.  
  
He hesitated before gently taking her battered hand. Grissom stared at it, then looked up at her still face. It had only been a few hours ago that those now closed eyes had been open and cutting through him with a fiery intensity all their own. Her chapped lips had been yelling back at him as, for the millionth time in forever, she had tried to defend herself against him, when she should have been laughing, joking, smiling. Anything other then yelling. Her bruised skin had been flushed with anger. She had been more alive. Walking, talking, breathing on her own. Now she was in this bed, trying to cling to life.  
  
She shouldn't be here.  
  
"Sara?" whispered Grissom, "Sara, can you hear me?"  
  
He knew it was a stupid question, but he had to ask it. He watched her face, waited for her to blink, twitch, or sit up and start yelling at him for waking her up, but she didn't respond. He sighed.  
  
"Sara… I just don't understand. You were supposed to be at a scene, not driving on that road. Why were you there?" he paused, as if waiting for a response, "God, Sara, I have so many unanswered whys."  
  
Grissom chuckled mirthlessly. He had told her that before, her first day in Vegas. Now she lay in what could possibly be her death bed, and he was saying it again.  
  
"Ironic, isn't it?" her thought out loud to her.  
  
"Nick said there was something wrong with you when he let you leave. I think I know what was on your mind. Now you're here in this bed, and I can't help but wonder if it was me who put you there."  
  
In his mind, Grissom could almost see Sara raise an eyebrow and cross her arms over her chest. He smiled, and rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.  
  
"I don't say it enough… hell, I don't even say it… but, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If anyone should be in that bed, it should be me. You've never done anything to deserve this, you've never done anything wrong. It's always been me… my own fears and selfish actions. I've let this get out of control, and maybe that's why you were out on that road… to just… let go. You're here now… and there aren't enough words to describe what I'm feeling."  
  
Tears rolled down his cheeks and his forehead touched the rough cotton sheets of her bed. His grip tightened on her hand, and he let his tears fall freely.  
  
"Sara… can you hear me? There is so much I want to tell you, if you could just hear me."  
  
He paused when he heard a light tap on the door. It creaked open and a nurse walked in.  
  
"Hello, sir. I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to take Ms. Sidle's vitals."  
  
Grissom quickly gained his composure before speaking, "No, it's alright. I was just heading out for a minute anyway," he turned back to Sara, "I'll be back in a bit."  
  
He stood up and stared down at her. He brushed back a strand of loose hair and, against his better judgment, placed a kiss on her forehead before slipping quietly out of the room.  
  
Once outside, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.  
  
Before he had gone in, he knew it would be hard to see her. He just had no idea how hard it would be until now. 


	7. Mind

**Author's note: **Hey guys! Thank you for the great reviews on the last chapter. Here's the next one. I'm considering changing it, but for now, I'll post it and see what happens. This is just really short. We got on the subject of what happens during a coma on the bus ride back from Regionals, so I wrote this from what I thought went on. The next chapter should follow sometime this weekend.

**Dedication: **This one is dedicated to my Grandma, who just got out of the hospital! Yay, G-ma, you're one of the strongest people I know! Much love!

..........

There was nothing more unsettling then opening your eyes to complete darkness.

"My eyes are open, right?"

Sara felt the urge to look around, but as far as she could tell, she couldn't move her head. She tried flexing her hands, moving her legs, but she couldn't feel any motion, except for the pounding of her heart growing increasingly faster.

"Ok, just calm down Sidle. Just breathe."

_How do you know if you're even breathing?_

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't be able to hear myself talk... think. Whatever."

_If you say so..._

Silence resounded through the air around her. Emptiness seeped through her pores. For the first time in forever, she felt utterly alone.

"Where am I anyway?"

If she was moving her eyes, they saw the same thing in every direction; darkness. She tried to sigh in frustration, but even that didn't work.

"Ok, I'll trace my steps. What's the last thing I remember?"

She focused all her energy to her memory. Fuzzy images passed through her head.

"I had fought with Grissom at the lab."

_Then what?_

"I... left. I went to meet up with Nick at our crime scene."

_You were still upset, though, from earlier. You didn't stay long with Nick. Where did you go?_

Sara sat quietly, trying to put the puzzle together. She could remember the fight, she could remember seeing Nick, but after that there was nothing.

"I... I don't remember. I just... remember leaving Nick. That's the last thing I remember."

She felt like crying. Chunks of her time had never gone missing. What could have possibly happened to put her in this state? Her thinking paused when she heard a voice. It came from above her, or at least what she was designating above her.

"Sara, can you hear me?"

"Oh my God, Grissom? Yes, yes I..."

"Sara... I just don't understand. You were supposed to be at a scene, not driving down that road. Why were you there?"

"I know, but... wait. Road? What the hell are you talking about? Grissom, tell me!"

Sara heard a chuckle. He mumbled something under his breath, and Sara thought she felt a wisp of air brush across her face. She tried desperately to make out his face, or anything, through the darkness. She saw nothing.

"Nick said there was something wrong with you when he let you leave. I think I know what was on your mind. Now you're here in this bed, and I can't help but wonder if it was me who put you there."

"What are you talking about? What bed? What road? Grissom, where am..."

Suddenly it hit her. Images raced through her head, like a movie being fast forward through to the end.

Her car. She was tired. The radio. A horn blaring. A truck.

Oh God, she had gone off the road.

She had been in an accident.

"Sara... can you hear me? There is so much I want to tell you, if you could just hear me."

A female voice interrupted him. She said something about taking vitals. Sara heard Grissom's voice trail off, before feeling a slight pressure against her forehead.

A kiss?

"Grissom? No, wait come back! I can hear you! I can hear you!

Oh God, what had happened?


	8. Waking up

****

Author's note: Lol, another prime example of what I do during the school day. I doodle, I sleep, and I write fan fiction. So, let's not waste anytime with more words then needed and get to the story! But first…

****

Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to my little trumpet man Jared, who was totally cool this whole marching band season, and never lost faith that trumpets totally KICK BUTT!

……….

****

Three Days Later…

Even after three days, the hurt hadn't even begun to subside. The CSI's took turns staying with Sara in shifts, just in case she should wake up. Grissom had said he didn't want her waking up alone.

It was about two o'clock in the afternoon. Greg and Warrick sat quietly next to Sara's bed, her nightstand positioned between them. Warrick had brought a chess board, worn from all the times it had been played over the years. Both men's eyes were focused on the small pieces as Warrick waited for Greg to move.

"Come on, Greg. We've been sitting here for at least seven minutes," said Warrick, slumping even more in his seat.

"Patience, Warrick. Chess is a game of concentration and the more you bug me about time, the more time it's gonna take."

Warrick huffed and cast a glance in the direction of Sara's bed. They had taken out her respirator, sighting sings of improvement as the reason why. Her bruises were still deep, though, but they had faded a little since she had first come in.

"It's almost like they won't go away, you know?"

Warrick slowly turned back to look at the young lab rat. Greg was looking at Sara, his calm smile hiding the hint of a grimace. Warrick nodded in agreement.

"You know, nobody ever asked why I was worried about Sara the day of her… accident," said Greg, turning back to the board and quickly moving a pawn.

Warrick smiled as he studied the board, remembering when Greg had called him out of the hall to help with his 'missing person.' At the time, Greg had been the only one really worried, but it was amazing just how quickly that had changed.

"Yeah, I meant to ask you about that, but things got a little hectic."

True, things had gotten hectic, but even Warrick would be willing to admit that the thought hadn't slipped his mind. As a matter of fact, the thought of Greg freaking out that night had crossed his mind more then once in the last three days. How Greg could be so upset about Sara not being there before anyone even knew anything was wrong was downright freaky.

"What was up?" Warrick proceeded cautiously.

"Just don't laugh. It's weird, yes, but not funny," Greg paused and took a deep breath, "The previous shift I came home from work and went straight to bed. I mean, I was abnormally exhausted. I fell asleep and had this dream… no, it was more of a nightmare. I was standing on the shoulder of a road in the middle of nowhere. Then there was a rush of wind and a huge cloud of smoke. I ran towards the cloud and as soon as it started to clear I could see a car… totally smashed. I looked inside and… Sara's face turned toward me, all bloody and stuff," Greg shrugged as he turned to look at Sara again, "I just, you know, thought it meant she was emotionally hurt or something. I didn't think she'd actually get into an accident."

Warrick frowned, "Greg, there's nothing you could have done to prevent it. Even if you had been able to tell her about it…"

"She wouldn't have been on that road if I could have told her," Greg interrupted.

"It was her choice, Greg. She was on that road for her own reasons, and I'm sure that nothing you, or Nick or even Grissom could have said would have made her stay. It's no ones fault, no matter how much the three of you want to blame yourselves," Warrick stared at Greg.

"I had a dream, Nick didn't ask what was wrong, but Grissom said a lot of things that… well, that shouldn't have been said," said Greg quietly, lowering his head, "You heard them fighting too, I know you did. So, maybe this is Grissom's fault."

"Maybe it is."

Warrick and Greg's heads snapped to the doorway, only to meet Grissom's tired form. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe. He hadn't gotten any sleep since the last time he was here, if the bags under his eyes were any indication.

"Grissom… I didn't mean…," Greg tried to explain, but Grissom raised his hand to get him to be quiet.

"It's not like that same thought hasn't passed through my mind, Greg."

Grissom walked into the room and sluped into the nearest empty chair. He cast a quick glance at Sara's still form, then looked to Greg and Warrick. He gave them a weak smile.

"How's she doing?"

"Same. Not so much as a twitch since we got here," said Warrick.

"God, if I would've known this was going to happen, I would've changed everything I said. At least then I'd know she didn't do this to herself."

"Griss, don't even think like that. Sara's a stubborn person. She'd rather put up a fight and prove you wrong then try killing herself," said Warrick.

"Yeah, and heaven knows she still had way too much to prove to you," added Greg.

Grissom shook his head, "Maybe she was trying to prove a point."

Warrick huffed, "Grissom, this was an accident. You worked the scene yourself. I know we've all checked out the evidence. Skid marks swerving to the correct side of the road, indicating she tried to correct herself. If she was bent on killing herself, why would she do that?"

"Even so, she wouldn't have been out there if I had given her the case she wanted. If I would have been smart enough to trust her judgment like I have in the past," Grissom said, his voice rising.

"You don't know that! Stop trying to make this a worse case scenario.! It was an _accident, _ok? Get used to it!" yelled Greg, pushing away from the nightstand.

The room was silent, Warrick glad that at least Greg had come to terms with the accident being just that; and accident. Anger, though, still hung thick in the air. Grissom looked away from Greg and over to the bed. He gasped.

"Guys… look."

Warrick and Greg turned to look, their eyes widening in astonishment as soon as they did. For the first time in days, Grissom smiled a genuine smile as he motioned to the younger men to get a nurse.

On the bed, Sara's eyes were fluttering open.

She was finally waking up.


	9. Reality

****

Author's note: Hey everyone! Sorry this took awhile. We're onto the next chapter of "Stuck." It's a little more upbeat then the last few chapters, but that's only because I threw Greg into the mix! But… I'll let you read for yourself! Enjoy!

****

Dedication: This one is dedicated to my Grandma Norma, who has recently been diagnosed with stomach cancer. We are all praying for you grandma!

……….

"She's coming to…"

"Has she said anything yet?"

"How many CC's of morphine are you pushing?"

"Wait, wait, wait! Her eyes are opening again!"

Sara groaned as she tried to push away from the doctors prodding hands. Her heavy heartbeat echoed in her ears, but even through that she could hear a collective sigh of relief from the doctors. She let her eyes open, blinking once. Slowly, her pupils adjusted to the bright light of the room and weakly she scanned over the crowd of MD's standing over her.

"Hello, Ms. Sidle. How are you feeling?"

Sara blinked and licked her chapped lips. Her tongue, though, was dry. She closed her eyes as she opened her mouth to speak.

"Thirsty," she managed in a hoarse whisper.

The doctor chuckled as he reached behind him for a small cup on the nightstand. He smiled.

"Just try to take it easy. We don't need you chocking on water, not after everything you've already been through."

"Thank you," Sara mumbled as she raised her right arm.

It was heavier then she remembered. She lazily shifted her gaze down to her arm and gasped when she saw it wrapped in a cast. She was suddenly aware of the weight pinning down her legs, and looked down to see similar casts adorning both. She was aware of the throbbing headache behind her eyes already, but she reached a hand up to her hair line. She winced and pulled away as she felt the cold metal of the staples and the jolt of pain that came from touching the wound.

"It must have been a bad accident," she said as she swallowed the lump in her throat.

The doctor nodded, "Worse then you know, but, I'm sure you'd like to rest. There's no need to bombard you with all this medical mumbo jumbo as you're waking up. We'll be back in a little while, but, until then, if you need anything, just ask for Dr. Peters."

He waved to the doctors and they slowly filed out of the room. Sara laid her head back into her pillow and sighed. She hoped that morphine kicked in soon.

A soft knock on the door, though, took away her chances of falling asleep anytime soon. She turned her head towards the door and blinked once, then again as she stared at the figure in the doorway.

Grissom stood there, a small grin playing across his haggard features. He raised his hand in a half wave, then stepped into the room.

"You're up," he said as he pulled a chair up next to her bed.

"Yeah," she mumbled as she stared back at her bandaged legs.

They sat in an awkward silence, Sara studying her various wounds, Grissom studying Sara's reaction to each one. He cringed when she discovered the stitches going across her abdomen. Sara sighed as she looked back up at Grissom.

"You don't have to stay here. I'll be knocked out soon anyway."

Grissom shook his head, "I'm not leaving."

Sara huffed and settled further into the hard mattress. She ran a hand over the rough cast on her arm.

"I didn't do this on purpose," she said.

"Huh?" said Grissom.

"I didn't set out that night intending to get in that accident, or hurt myself. I… I think I fell asleep at the wheel, but this wasn't on purpose," she said as she studied her hands.

Grissom smiled and sat back in his chair, "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that."

"Does it?" Sara asked.

"Well, yeah. I was so scared I had lost you, and that it was my fault. If something worse would have happened… I don't know what I would have done," he said quietly.

"You, scared?" Sara said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, of course…"

But the conversation didn't have a chance to finish. The door swung open and the exuberant frame of Greg Sanders stepped in. He took one look at the stunned Sara and a wide smile broke out on his face.

"Good morning, sunshine!" he said as he ran up to the bed, practically leaping onto Sara to give her a hug, "It's so good to see you up!"

Sara struggled to take in a breath, "Ack, yeah Greg, nice to see you too. But you know what's nicer?"

"What's that?" asked Greg, wrapping his arms tighter around her.

"Air!" managed Sara.

There was a small chuckle before the pressure lightened and Greg pulled away. He blushed and smiled.

"Sorry," he said.

"Greg, how much coffee have you had this morning?" asked Grissom.

Greg turned to Grissom and shrugged, "None. I'm running off my happiness of seeing Sara."

"Oh brother," laughed Sara.

"Greg…," said Grissom with a raised eyebrow.

"Ok, and maybe three cups of Blue Hawaiian… but that's not why I'm here! Everybody's dying to see you!," he said, turning back to Sara, "They were just waiting for you two to get done with you're lovey-dovey reunion."

Sara and Grissom's heads shot up and both yelled his name in unison.

"GREG!"

"Hey, Catherine's words, not mine. I am but a mere messenger," he said with a dramatic bow. He paused, then continued, "So, can they come in?"

Grissom turned to Sara, "Are you feeling up to it?"

Sara smiled, "If I can handle Greg, I can take anything."

Greg hopped off the bed and walked over to the door. He stuck his head out into the hallway and yelled to the CSI's waiting down the hall.

"Hey, guys, it's safe! They have their clothes back on!"

"GREG!" Sara and Grissom yelled again, eyes wide, checks turning red with embarrassment.

Greg looked back at the pair and grinned, "Sorry, couldn't resist."

TBC


	10. Home and Nightmares

****

Author's note: It's a Friday night, I'm bored to death, and then I remember, hey! I've got a chapter of "Stuck" I've been meaning to post!! So, lol, here it is! Please, enjoy!

****

Dedication: Let's see… this chapter is dedicated to a cute boy in my 3rd hour. I cannot reveal his name for "security reasons" and because, as of late, a few of my friends from school have started reading my fics. So… here's to the cute boy in third hour!!

……….

One Week Later…

A day after Sara had woken up, she had been moved out of ICU and into a regular room on the third floor. This one was painted a faded pink, and had a window that faced the east. In the morning, the bright Vegas sun would shine in through the dusty glass, and the image it created never ceased to take Grissom's breath away. The morning rays gently caressing the fading bruises on Sara's soft cheeks, the way it glowed in her hair. He had always smiled as he hesitantly sat down in her room. After a long night of dead bodies and crime scenes, to see her alive and breathing… that was beauty enough for him.

Now, though, the room was silent and he was alone.

The nurses had just left with Sara in her wheelchair. Another round of X-rays awaited her. As soon as the young women had stepped in, Sara had rolled her eyes. Once was ok, twice was annoying. Three times? That was just ridiculous.

"Sorry, Ms. Sidle, but the last few turned out blurred, too. We just want to make sure that everything is healing properly so we can get you out of here sooner."

Sara looked down at the bulky casts on her arm and legs and sighed, "If I stayed any longer I'd be planning a jail break."

Grissom chuckled along with the nurses as they nodded, and helped Sara into her wheelchair. She gave Grissom a weak smile and a shrug of her shoulders as they wheeled her out, leaving Grissom to his thoughts, which were soon interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by a familiar voice saying his name.

"Mr. Grissom?"

Grissom turned around and smiled politely at the doctor, "Hello, Dr. Peters. They just took Sara out for another X-ray. She should be back soon."

Dr. Peters nodded, "Well, that's good, but it was you I was actually hoping to catch."

"Really? What for?" Grissom asked.

"As you've probably guessed, these next few days are going to be pretty rough for Ms. Sidle, what with a cast on her arm and the ones on her legs," he paused, then added, "Mobility will be quite tough."

"I've guessed as much, yes."

The doctor continued, "Until she gets used to it, there are going to be quite a few things Sara won't be able to do, and things she can do, will be extremely difficult."

"Limited mobility can cause such problems," said Grissom, starting to catch the drift, but not voicing that.

"Yes, and that's where you come in."

Yeah, definitely caught the drift.

"I see," he said nervously.

"Ms. Sidle should have someone around the house for the next few days. Not only are things going to be hard to do, but she is going to get extremely frustrated with her inabilities. Not only that, but she could start having nightmares about her accident, post traumatic stress is common in accident victims. It would be nice to have some… support around."

Grissom smiled and nodded, "My team and I will see to it that one of us is always there. At least for the next couple days."

Dr. Peters smiled back, "Thank you. This will help her more then you know."

The voice that followed from the door started both the men as it spoke up.

"Help who?"

The nurses wheeled Sara in through the doorway and helped her ease herself onto the bed. She smiled a thank you as the nurses walked out.

"Ms. Sidle, how are you feeling?"

Sara shrugged, "Pretty good, considering."

"Good. I'll go check your X-rays and see if we can't get you out of here by this afternoon."

Dr. Peters nodded at Grissom and Sara before walking out of the room. Sara smiled at Grissom.

"Going home," he said quietly.

"Yeah," Sara mumbled, "Going home."

……….

Coming home was bittersweet for Sara. It was better then the hospital, sure, but Sara couldn't help but re-evaluate her actions as Grissom wheeled her over the threshold and into her dark apartment. It had never been easy for Sara to trust other people, but now, after her accident, she was forced to rely on their help, no matter how hard that was. What made it even more difficult, though, was the fact that it was Grissom, and her subconscious couldn't help but wonder if, while in his "capable" hands, he didn't, at some point, plan on pushing her down a flight of stairs to be rid of her for good.

"Home sweet home," Sara mumbled under her breath as she bit her bottom lip and reached over to the light switch on the wall.

"Must feel good," said Grissom as he shut the door.

Sara looked over her shoulder at him and shrugged, "Kind of."

Grissom frowned, "What's the matter?"

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

Sara lowered her hands to the wheels on her wheelchair and tried to roll herself across the room. The cast got in the way, though, catching the wheel and jerking forward. Sara cursed under her breath as Grissom grabbed the back of the chair and wheeled her into the living room.

"You ok?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"Oh… ok. Well, uh, the doctor said to take one of these as soon as you got home," said Grissom, pulling an orange prescription bottle out of his jacket pocket, "As soon as you do, go straight to bed, no questions asked."

Sara sighed and rolled her eyes, "Griss, I'm not even tired."

"Oh, but you will be," Grissom said with a smirk.

Sara groaned and reached behind her, "Gimme those," she said, snatching the bottle from Grissom's hand.

"So, you go take those and go to bed. I'll uh, pop in a movie or read a magazine or something."

"You don't have to stay here," said Sara, almost panicky.

"Yes, I do; at least until Catherine gets here. Dr. Peters said someone should keep an eye on you for the next couple of days."

Sara's jaw dropped and her eyes went wide. Grissom immediately regretted telling her that, "What? Why? I'm able to take care of myself!"

"I know that," Grissom reassured her calmly, "but you've got a broken arm, you're in a wheelchair because of your legs, and this medicine is going to make you extremely drowsy. It's just for a couple of days, until you get used to things. After that, it's only a few weeks before they put you on crutches."

"What about work? When can I go back?"

Grissom sighed, "Two weeks… but lab and paperwork only. And until your broken leg heals, you won't be out in the field."

"Son of a…," Sara started, but Grissom interrupted her.

"Sara, you know it's for the best. Now, go to bed. That medicine will work fast once you take it."

Sara groaned and started moving towards her room, but stopped short of the hallway. She turned around, "Grissom?"

"Yeah?"

"You'll be here?"

Grissom nodded, "Yeah, so if you wake up and need anything, I'll be right here."

……….

Darkness. That's all there seemed to be behind her eyes these days. Wait, scratch that. That's all there seemed to be in her life period.

"Where am I?" she asked the darkness, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu.

Her voice echoed, but she couldn't see anything for it to bounce off of. She felt her legs shift nervously beneath her, unburdened by her casts. She seized the opportunity to walk around the darkness on her own. She was regaining her balance as a rush of wind knocked her over, followed by a flash of light which illuminated the space around her. An EMT was running up to her, and as soon as he reached her, he fell to his knees at her side. She stared up at him and frowned as his hands went to her shoulders, knocking her on her back.

"Quick, we need a stretcher!"

Sara struggled against the EMT's hands, sweat breaking out on her brow, "What the hell is going on?"

The EMT acted as if nothing was happening underneath him. He looked up at the approaching figure and in a desperate voice, yelled, "We're losing her, damn it!"

"Grissom!" Sara gasped his name, "What's going on?"

Grissom's eyes slipped closed and he shook his head, "I know, but… at least now she's not suffering."

"Grissom? Damn it, answer me!"

"Sara," he breathed, "It didn't have to end like this."

"Holy…" Sara felt herself being jerked up harshly off the ground and spun violently around to face the spot where she had just laid. She gasped, her eyes widened. Her face paled and she could taste the bile rising in her throat.

She lay on the ground, eyes wide, still-warm blood running down her torn wrists. The razor still sat in her hand, the drying blood becoming sticky on the ground surrounding her body. The EMT slowly stood and backed away. Grissom quickly followed.

__

' You didn't do this on purpose?'

"I didn't! I swear, it was just an accident!"

__

' _Moriré de frío, desprovisto de esperanza y de amor…'_

Sara shook her head and looked away from her body, "What are you saying?" she shouted to the air, "I can't understand you!"

__

'I can't understand you! What are you saying? Shut up! The only reason you're here now is because a) you couldn't finish the job and b) you just plain gave up hope.'

"Hope for what?" Sara asked.

__

'Hope that it'd all be over. Hope that your life would end, and so would the pain. One minute to hear his voice, one look into his eyes, skin on skin for five seconds and you threw it all away.'

"Threw what away?" Sara asked desperately.

__

'Do you see that body? That's you. You were supposed to die. You were always too scared to let yourself have what you really wanted. You wanted to die, but you held on. Even now, you want him. He's so close, isn't he? But you won't take that path again, will you?'

Sara could hear a scream, then felt an invisible hand on her shoulder. In the air, she could hear Grissom say her name.

"Sara!"

"Grissom?"

"Will you get it right this time?"

"Sara, wake up!"

Sara sat up in her bed, sweat dripping down her face. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness before focusing on Grissom's worried stare.

"Grissom…"

"Sara, you… you were screaming…"

"I was dead, he told me… you told them…"

Grissom rested his hands on her shoulders and looked at her, "Sara, calm down."

"You wanted me dead," she said flatly.

Grissom's eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head, "Sara, no… never."

"I was supposed to die," she said as tears started to stream down her face.

"Sara…," but all Grissom could manage was a whisper of her name. She leaned into him, and without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

"Just… don't let me go. Please?"

Grissom nodded and pulled her closer. They stayed like that until the morning rays of the sun started to shine through the window, and slowly, Sara started to fall back to sleep.

TBC

……….

****

A.N: Just a note on the Spanish up above. That means, "I died cold, deprived of hope and love." I dunno why I felt that was appropriate for the scene, but yeah… ok, then, hope you enjoyed!


	11. Paper Cut

****

Author's note: Ok, ok, sorry about the lack of writing. On top of everything else that had been going on, my parents dropped the surprise of moving on me, so I've been sans computer until now! So, lets get to the story again, k? For all intents and purposes I'm skipping over what I had originally written in my notebook, and moving forward in the story a couple weeks. Trust me, we're not missing anything interest. So, on with the story!

****

Dedication: This one is dedicated to my mother. It's her birthday present, well, part of it!

……….

"Four weeks of waiting to come back, and now I'm here and all I want to do is go home," Sara mumbled as she signed her name to one more case report.

Four weeks had been long enough for a cast from her leg and the one from her arm to come off, long enough for her to find herself sitting in the break room filling out paperwork, and long enough to shake off everyone's insistent pampering. Four weeks had gone by like that, and yet it felt like her nightmare had just begun yesterday.

Sara flipped through another folder, searching for the right pages, the letters blurring as she stared at the monotonous lines. She sighed loudly and tossed her pen onto the break room table. No use in stressing out over paperwork; if she didn't get it done, the next poor sap stuck in the lab would pick some of it up.

Unfortunately, she was absolutely sure that's not how it worked.

Flipping through the folder again, she let her mind wander to the one thing that four weeks hadn't gotten rid of. Foggy though the memory was, the feeling of his strong arms around her shaking form still lingered. The sensation of his breath hot against her skin as he whispered into her ear, the feel of his soft beard rubbing against her cheek. His hand rubbing gentle circles along her back. Sara grinned as she flipped the page, but the expression was only momentary. She hissed as the paper dug into her finger, and pulled her hand away from the offending office supply.

"Damn it," she said rather loudly as she shook her cut finger.

She grabbed hold of it and looked down, studying the small cut that adorned her finger. A small drop of blood formed at its edge, and she sighed heavily.

"Band-aid," she mumbled as she reached out for her crutches.

Sara slipped them under her arms, and made her way to the first aid kit that sat in the corner. She reached for it, and opened it up, rifling though the various items for a regular band-aid. She came up empty handed.

"What are you doing?" said a voice from behind her.

Sara turned around and leaned against the counter, smiling as she watched Nick sit down at the table, sipping on a cup of coffee.

"I'm looking for band-aids. Do you know why there aren't any in the first aid kit?"

Nick smiled around a mouthful of coffee, then swallowed, "Warrick and I used the last of them up a few months back after an intense game of table football. They don't ever tell you this, but those things can give you paper cuts. But Griss might have some extras in his desk. I'm sure he'll give you one if you ask nicely."

Grissom was the last person she wanted to see. Sara was, after all, completely content with blaming the paper cut on him. If he only hadn't invaded her thoughts…

"Yeah, sure, I'll go check."

Sara made her way out of the break room, and down to Grissom's office. She stopped briefly outside his office, and took a deep breath before taking a peek inside.

He sat at his desk, glasses perched on his nose as he started down at an open case file. He jotted down a few notes, then continued to read. Sara bit her bottom lip and took a deep breath as she brought her hand to his door frame and knocked. He looked up, and stared at Sara his eyes furrowed as he watched her stand in the doorway.

"Hey," said Sara after a few seconds.

"Hey," Grissom said back, waving at her to come in. Sara gladly did so.

"Um, what's up?" he asked awkwardly as Sara took a seat across from him, glad to be off her crutches, albeit momentarily.

"Uh, I cut my finger, and I went through the first-aid kit in break room, but there were no band-aids. Nick said you might have some in here."

His eyes furrowed again as he continued to stare at her, "Cut your finger?"

"Yeah, just a paper cut, no big deal but still…"

"Let me see," Grissom said, reaching for her hand.

Sara hesitated, then gently placed her hand in his. He leaned over and pulled her hand higher, looking at the small cut. He gently ran his thumb over it and frowned. With his other hand, he reached into his desk drawer, and pulled out a band-aid. Pulling away only for a few seconds he removed the band-aid from its package and wrapped it around her finger. Grissom looked up and gave Sara a lopsided grin.

"There," he managed.

But her hand was still in his, and neither on of them wanted to move.

"I… I could have done that myself, you know," said Sara quietly.

Grissom shrugged, "Yeah, I know. I just, worried, I guess."

Sara sighed and slowly removed her hand from his, "You don't have to worry about me, Grissom. Not about this, not about anything."

She grabbed for her crutches once more and stood up. She looked down at the floor, then to Grissom, who sat frowning behind his desk.

"Thanks for the band-aid," she mumbled, before making her way out of his office.

Grissom sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Then why do I worry you'll leave," he mumbled to his empty office, and to the women who was no longer there.

……….

****

A.N.- I know this was a very short chapter, and that it really had no purpose other then to reveal feelings we all knew were already there. But I'm sure there is a purpose, as the next few chapters will reveal once I have them written. Expect a tough case that will have Grissom questioning his past decisions, and his future with Sara…


	12. Second Chance

**Author's note:** Hey again, guys. Again, this chapter went through some major changes from the original, and I know it's short, but I got some comments on getting this 'ship resolved, and I decided to get right along to it. So please, enjoy! Oh, and since I LOVE reader feedback, I'll let you decided. Quiet dinner at Griss/Sara's apartment, or some random restaurant somewhere? You'll get it as you read! Oh, and PS: I dont really know how much sense this chapter makes so... yeah!

**Dedication:** This one is dedicated to Katherine, who is uber happy right now thanks to this guy she likes! How perfectly fitting that they got together just as I released this chapter… hmmm…

……….

She found herself a little bit startled by his kindness, but she knew better then to read into it. Years of doing exactly that had gotten her to rock bottom without a trampoline. She wasn't ready to go back there anytime soon.

Her fingers toyed absentmindedly with the band aid that now adorned her finger, her mind wandering to the feel of his worn hands on her soft skin, lingering only briefly to assess the situation before gently placing the band aid around the paper cut. She couldn't think of a paper cut she had enjoyed more.

But even through her somewhat giddiness, she couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt echo through her chest at her own words, mumbled as she quickly made her escape from his office.

_You don't have to worry about me, Grissom. Not about this, not about anything._

The words had slipped before she had gotten a chance to think about it. Sara could only imagine what Grissom must have felt. Anybody was entitled to be worried about someone, especially a friend, and while they hadn't been much of that lately, they were making progress.

Ever since her accident, getting away from Grissom had been hard. Sara knew now what the look of worry was on his face. She had known it all to well as she recovered in her home, and he'd stop by, frowning about little things she was having trouble adjusting to. It had gotten frustrating, having someone who, for the last 2 years, had rarely paid you any mind, all of a sudden be there twenty four/seven. Sara's sense of independence had been stripped from her, and he didn't seem to be doing much to help. But even through all that, his kindness had blinded her, not to mention his sense of need. Need to know she was alright, need to know that he was helping.

The need to know she was alive.

Maybe she had been a little colder then her mind remembered. No wonder he worried. She had almost died… she might not be here today if it wasn't for… whatever force from above decided she needed to live. This wasn't just being alive, it was a second chance. Grissom wasn't just worried, he was scared he wouldn't get his second chance…

Their second chance.

Two years of ignoring the other, pretending they didn't exist. Sara found herself standing in the middle of the hallway, her arms shaking, her face going cold. She had been alive for about six weeks, given more time, and in that almost six weeks she had accomplished little. Sara had managed to find reasons to be frustrated with Grissom, to push him away, to make him hurt.

You don't have to worry about me, Grissom.

But maybe Grissom was justified in his worrying. Slowly but surely, despite any progress they might have been making, Sara had managed to slip back into the old routine. She couldn't blame Grissom for worrying; she had just managed to worry herself.

She wasn't ready to lose him. They had been given a second chance, and they were letting it go to waste.

"Sara?"

She froze and swallowed the lump in her throat. She turned around and met the look she had grown to know to well; that worried look of Grissom's.

"Hey, I was just… thinking about you."

Grissom raised an eyebrow, but didn't say a word. Instead, he gently grabbed her elbow and lead her down the hall, towards his office.

They made their way slowly to his office, the clack of Sara's crutches the only sound between them. They didn't look at each other, but made continued towards his office, finally reaching it, and each letting out a sigh of relief as Grissom shut the door behind them.

"Sara…," Grissom started, but he was cut off by Sara.

"Wait… before you say anything, I need to apologize for earlier. What I said, about you not worrying? Well, I shouldn't have said that. You have every right to be worried whenever you want. And I… I shouldn't have jumped on you like that. I'm sorry."

Sara looked down to the ground, her face red. Grissom set a hand on her shoulder, catching her attention. She looked back up, letting a small smile grace her face.

"I… I know. My statement was just… out of place. But I do worry about you. I worry that you're not happy here, I worry that those crutches are chapping your arms," he chuckled, and dropped his gaze briefly onto her lips.

Grissom stopped laughing and looked back to Sara's eyes. Their looks locked, and Grissom's hand went to Sara's cheek.

"I worry that I'll lose you."

He hesitated, then pulled her into a hug, his strong arms wrapping around her waist, his head resting in the crook of her neck. Her hands let go of her crutches, and quickly wrapped themselves around his neck. She leaned into his grasp, and whispered into his ear.

"I'm worried I'll lose you too. But if we work together… we can't lose each other."

Grissom nodded and tightened his hold on her. He whispered back, "I don't think I could stand to wait another day," he pulled back and leaned his forehead on hers, "Second chances are rare, and I felt like mine was slipping away," he paused, thinking over his next words, then continued, "Have dinner with me. Please?"

Sara smiled, "How could I say no?"

"We still have a lot to talk about," Grissom said, pulling away and looking down at the woman in his arms.

"I know, but I'm willing to work through that."

Grissom smiled down at her and nodded, "So am I."

He glanced at his watch and frowned. He would have given anything to stay like that, but they were still in his office, and still on lab time, "We should get back to work, and… I'll get back to you later on dinner."

Sara smiled and nodded, and sighed as Grissom handed her the crutches that had fallen to the ground. She walked slowly out, her heart beating faster then it had in forever. And totally content with this sudden change. They both knew it would only have been a matter of time, thank God it had been tonight.

Second chances were rare, and six weeks ago, they had gotten theirs. It only seemed fitting that they get started sooner rather then later. This was only the first step anyway; and even Sara knew there was a long road still ahead of them.


	13. Endings and Beginnings

****

Four Months Later…

"Tomorrow's forecast looks a little more promising. A high of only 92, with a 40 percent chance of thunderstorms. Hopefully, Diane, Las Vegas will see some rain."

"Yes, we can only hope. Thank you, Tom. This just coming in from our news hotline. A triple murder has been reported in Henderson tonight. Police seem to be making their way to the scene at this moment. Stay tuned to WNEM 5 for more breaking news as this story develops. We'll be right back."

As the cheery blonde disappeared from the screen and a car commercial flashed on, Sara turned off the TV. A triple murder usually meant all hands on deck, even if it was her night off. She shifted under the soft cotton blankets as she turned on the light, sitting up and stretching her long slender arms. Looking around the now lit room, she smiled. Even after almost a month, she was still amazed by the sight of the new room. What was once just "Grissom's room" had become theirs, like so many other things in their lives. She stood up, carefully stretching her legs, reveling in the fact that the bulky cast no longer weighed her down.

In four months, so much had changed. After that first dinner, both Sara and Grissom wouldn't have imagined where this road would have taken them. Of course, they had known where they had wanted to go, but they never thought they would have gotten here so soon. Here. Living together, still working together, their love still a secret. Although, they had been talking about that last thought.

Sara walked across the bedroom and out into the living room, slowly making her way to the kitchen. She looked around herself, smiling at some of their personal landmarks. The couch where they had first kissed, the doorway where they had their first argument as a couple, and, thinking back to the bed she had just gotten out of…

She groaned when she heard a knock at the door.

'I'm not even out of my pajamas yet,' she thought as she walked over to the door.

"You better have coffee," she mumbled as she opened the door.

"Oh, I've got something much better."

She broke out in a grin when she saw Grissom on the other side of the door. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and squeezed tightly. Their lips met in a hungry kiss as he shuffled her inside. They finally broke away for air.

"You do know this is still your house too, right? Why did you knock?" Sara asked as she led him to the couch.

Grissom shrugged, "Element of surprise, I guess."

Sara kissed him one more time, before moving to get up, "You wait here, I'll get dressed, then we can head for the scene."

"You've heard about it already?" he asked.

"It was on the news just a few minutes ago. I figured someone would be by soon to get me."

Grissom smiled and pulled her back down onto the couch. Sara raised an eyebrow as she met his eyes.

"So, are we going?"

"Oh, yeah, eventually. But we're doing it on shifts. Guess who doesn't have to be in until 8?"

Sara smiled, "Us?"

Grissom stood up and pulled Sara with him. He started walking to the bedroom, tugging her along. She smiled as she tightened her grip on his hand, "Work on anything interesting tonight?"

Grissom looked at her, "I worked an arson. Some guy blew up an old house in the middle of nowhere. The house was set for demolition anyway. But we got him. Nothing that'll give me nightmares."

Sara smiled up at him as he maneuvered her into the bedroom, shutting the door behind them. With just a few hours to rest before heading to the gruesome crime scene, both Sara and Grissom were bent on making the most of their time, because tomorrow, they knew, you might not get a second chance.

THE END


End file.
